


people don't usually come back this way

by jj_blues



Series: there's nothing to be afraid of [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Damian Wayne is a Brat, Fights, Gen, Good Older Sibling Jason Todd, Injury, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24838192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jj_blues/pseuds/jj_blues
Summary: Arguments in the Wayne household were the worst. Especially when Bruce was dead, and Dick had let Alfred take the rest of the year off.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: there's nothing to be afraid of [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736926
Comments: 7
Kudos: 123





	people don't usually come back this way

The final credits rolled across the wide screen. Netflix had definitely upped their game. _The Politician_ was a rollercoaster. He couldn't wait for the second season to air. Grinning to himself, Tim switched off the TV, and grabbed his tablet from the coffee table. 

He leaned back against the couch as he scrolled through the news. A thunderbird causing a freak thunderstorm, and a massive black-out throughout Wisconsin. The god Kitanitowit helping a struggling family in Delaware. A teenager in Ohio adopting a spor. Bruce Wayne's death hitting the three-month mark. 

He froze.

God, he could still remember how he summoned Death herself on the second night of Bruce's death to bargain for his soul, but she refused. Something about her being forbidden to interfere with Bruce's fate. It didn't even make sense. Bruce was _dead_. What would she be interfering with? Moments like those felt like the universe was out to get Tim. He did all he could to save his loved ones, to no avail - 

No. He pulled through his parents' deaths alone just fine. He could survive this. He had Dick, and Jason. And the brat, too, he supposed. They would survive this. 

With that thought in mind, Tim glanced at the clock on the mantle. 7:23 PM. He still had an hour to kill before dinner. 

He deposited his tablet on the couch, and descended to the Cave to try, and let off some steam. He'd have to send Jason a text to get him if they'd want to start preparing tonight's menu. It needs to be something healthy, because Damian was a growing child - um, ghoul. And vegetarian, because the ghoul wouldn't eat meat. Which was weird, because don't ghouls need meat to survive? Tim shook his head. Whatever. 

Speaking of Damian, he seemed to be acting even more of a brat than usual. Sure, he could sort of understand where he was coming from, but that doesn't mean Damian had the right to boss him around - 

He skidded to a halt at the sight of said brat on the practice mats. "What are you doing here?" 

Damian straightened up. His katana vanished from his hand as he turned to face Tim. "I'm practicing my magic." 

"Well, I'm gonna practice my magic, too, so if you could please move over there..." Tim pointed to the area at far side of the Cave. 

But the brat lifted his chin to meet Tim's gaze. "I was here first." 

Tim almost scoffed. "And? It doesn't make you special - " 

"I don't get what they see in you." 

He blinked, caught off-guard at Damian's interruption. "What?" 

"Mother said you bested Grandfather in combat. That you were the one who killed him." 

Tim shifted uncomfortably. Why the hell were they talking about this? "Look, can you just - " 

"I don't get what Father sees in you, either," Damian continued, like Tim hadn't just spoken. He resisted the urge to glare at him. "You're mortal, and yet he still chose you as his heir." 

_Now_ he wanted to groan. "We told you, B doesn't care about the amount of otherworldly blood in our veins. It doesn't mean anything to him." 

"Unfortunately, it means everything to me. And seeing as you're mortal, it should be obvious how your mere existence is a stain to the Wayne name." 

Tim rolled his eyes. Like he hadn't heard that one before. Besides, it doesn't make sense. He was adopted by Bruce; he wasn't a full-blooded Wayne. "Are you done? I still wanna work on my magic, you know." 

"If you want to practice so badly - " 

Tim raised his gaze to the ceiling. Why can't he have a normal practice session for once? "Fine, I'll spar with you - ow! What the hell?!" 

He rubbed his temple. Damn, the hilt of Damian's katana _hurt_. What kind of combat skills did Talia teach the brat?!

"There are no rules in a fight, witch. You either live, or die." 

Tim rolled his eyes again. Yeah, Damian really was Ra's grandson. He even had the freakin' dramatics down. "I changed my mind. I don't want to spar." 

"You should know better by now that I don't take no for an answer." 

Before Tim could fire back a response, Damian had lunged forward, wrapped his fingers around his throat, and shoved him to the ground. Tim gasped. A split-second later, the pressure around his neck disappeared. 

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself to his feet. He looked around. A thick fog had spread across the Cave. "Not fair, brat." 

How did Damian even know how to summon the fog? As far as Tim was concerned, the al Ghuls' magic didn't extend beyond near-perfect skills in combat, shapeshifting, and finding ridiculous ways to prolong their lifespans. He closed his eyes, and concentrated on dissipating the fog. 

A familiar whizzing sound reached his ears. He opened his eyes to let a barrier materialize around him. The knife disintegrated into ashes upon contact. 

A strange sense of déjà vu crawled up his spine. 

He steeled his nerves while continuing to murmur the incantation for the elimination spell. At the same time, he tried to keep an ear out for more knives Damian would no doubt throw at him. It seemed like the brat never ran out of knives. 

Finally, the last of the fog cleared. His breath hitched at the person standing in front of him. 

"Dana?" 

No. No. Dana's gone. Holed up in a clinic in Blüdhaven. Tim hasn't been allowed to see her in _years_. 

"Tim." Her expression softened. "I missed you." 

A lump swelled up in his throat. He found himself taking a step towards her. "Dana, I..." 

The words died on his tongue. _Is it really you?_

She smiled. His heart clenched. Gods, he missed her. "C'mon, Tim, let's go home. We'll make your favorite lasagna for dinner. And I'll let you have coffee afterwards if you want to pull an all-nighter. What do you say?" 

He opened his mouth to respond, but froze. Coffee after an all-nighter? What the hell? Dana never lets him pull all-nighters. She always preferred he went to bed early - 

A wave of disappointment crashed in his stomach. "No." He stepped away. Tears burned in the corners of his eyes. He forced himself to blink them back. "You're not her. You're not - Dana won't - just leave me alone!" 

Dana's - _not_ Dana, she's not Dana - eyes flickered green. "If you say so." 

Pain exploded on the side of his face. 

He groaned as he found himself flat on his back again, the wind knocked out of him. He lifted a hand to his cheek. His fingers brushed over blood. Fuck. He should've known. He muttered a quick healing spell, feeling the skin mend itself together under the pads of his fingers. 

"Tt. And here I thought you could take a hit, witch." 

Tim sucked in a sharp breath. He scrambled to his feet, summoned his staff, and pointed it at the ghoul's direction. "Don't... Don't you _dare_ \- " 

His magic itched beneath his skin, screaming at him to burn the ghoul to ashes like he'd done to Ra's. Damian had belittled his heritage ever since Talia had dropped him off at the Manor; Tim has been patient with the brat just like Dick told him to, but this was taking things too far. 

"What the fuck is going on here?" 

Tim glanced at the door. 

In a blink, Jason had grabbed his chin. A chill ran down his spine at the touch. Four years later, and he still wasn't used to the souvenirs Jason had picked up from the Lazarus Pit. 

"Jay." He tried to bat Jason's arm away with his free hand. "I'm fine." 

But Jason must've seen something on his face, because he let go of him to turn his attention to Damian. "Brat, what the heck? What'd you do?" 

"Tt. He attacked me first - " 

Tim's eyes widened. "You shapeshifted even when you told Dick you wouldn't - " 

"You did _what?!_ " Jason's voice rose. "What the fuck, brat? You promised!" 

Damian's loud scoff echoed around the Cave. "If you think a pinky promise with a mix-blooded fae would mean something to me, then you're sorely mistaken." 

Jason's posture went rigid. Fuck. Tim reached out to grab his arm. "Jay, no - " 

But Jason shrugged him off. "How dare you? How _dare_ you?! Dick's your older brother, and you fucking dare talk about him like that?!" 

"He isn't my older brother," Damian said. Tim had to stop his magic from snarling at the brat's arrogant tone. "I consider him my brother as much as you and the witch have the right to the Wayne name." 

Jason snorted. "Oh, please! Just because Talia fed you bull about the superiority of otherworldly beings doesn't mean it's true. Dad doesn't give a fuck if his heirs are half-otherworldly, quarter-otherworldly, or sixteenth-otherworldly. In case you forgot, he's mortal. Otherworldly blood means _shit_ to him." 

Damian's expression remained impassive. "I'd sooner die than believe the words of an undead over my own mother." 

Tim swallowed. He made a grab for Jason's arm again. "Jay. Jay, c'mon. Just ignore him - " 

"Hey, guys!" 

Tim jerked his head towards the doorway. 

The glamour faded to reveal Dick's tired grin, and dark eyebags. A sudden surge of guilt spread across Tim's chest. Dick had been running himself ragged to take care of the family and Wayne Enterprises, while Tim, and Damian couldn't even stop trying to kill each other every time they were in the same room. 

"I thought we could schedule a movie night to celebrate my successful impersonation of Dad without tipping Vicki off - Jason? Why're you...?" Dick's face fell. "What happened?" 

Under normal circumstances, Dick's appearance, and magic would've soothed the tension in a room. But this wasn't even close to a normal circumstance. 

"Ask the brat," Tim said. 

Dick turned to Damian in bewilderment. "Dami?" 

"It's not my fault." 

_"Bullshit,"_ Jason spat. "Y'know what? I'm done here. He's all yours, Dick." 

Before Tim could register what was happening, Jason had torn his arm away from his grip. "Jason, wait - " 

Jason whirled around. His blue eyes flickered green. Tim froze. 

_Lower Manhattan. A cacophony of screams. Jason with Dick's face. The good-natured smile Tim always associated with Dick twisted into a feral smirk. Glowing green eyes. Fingers stained with blood._

"Tim. Tim!" 

With great effort, Tim shoved the scene back into the darkest corner of his mind. Slowly, the Cave shifted into focus. He raised his head to meet Dick's gaze. Blue eyes. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. "'M fine." 

Dick let go of his shoulders. Tim didn't miss the hint of concern that flickered across his face. Ugh, what was it and his brothers thinking he couldn't handle himself? "You're not fine, Tim. Jason promised he could keep the Madness in check - " 

"And he can." Tim knew Dick knew Jason could control the Madness since he was sixteen. "Look at the bright side, Dick. At least he didn't try to actually kill me this time." 

"He would've, had Richard not reigned him in." 

Tim stepped out from behind Dick to glare at Damian. An unsettling feeling churned in his gut, but he ignored it. "What do you mean?" 

Because Jason _could_ control the Madness. He said so himself. He swore to the family on the Courts, and oaths on the Courts weren't meant to be taken likely. The brat was probably just winding him up. 

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. "You know exactly what I mean, Timothy. Jason was lying. He's obviously been having trouble controlling the Madness. Gods, and here I thought you knew. You're supposed to be one of the most powerful mortals in Gotham. Thank the gods I wasn't born such a useless witch like you - " 

"Excuse me?" 

He noted, with some sick sort of satisfaction, how Damian suddenly flinched at his quiet tone. " _I'm_ useless? C'mon, brat. Bruce, and Alfred might've never admitted it, but we all know how disappointed they were when they realized you couldn't even control yourself around mortals." 

"Tim, stop." 

The air crackled with Dick's magic. A warning, but Tim had enough with his eldest brother _always fucking siding_ with the damn ghoul. 

"Get over yourself, Dick. You think I'm just gonna stand here, and let him talk shit about my heritage? If the brat knew what's good for him, then he wouldn't have tried to pick a fight with me in the first place!" 

Dick's eyes widened. "I didn't mean for it to - " 

"No. I'm done." Tim let his staff disappear as he turned on his heel to walk out of the Cave. "Talk to me after you've fucking tamed the brat."


End file.
